


The Tale of Kaiderello

by puss_nd_boots



Category: the GazettE
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Anal Sex, Anonymous Sex, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-15
Updated: 2013-08-15
Packaged: 2017-12-23 12:57:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/926703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/puss_nd_boots/pseuds/puss_nd_boots
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Once upon a time, there was a boy named Kaiderello who only wanted to go to Prince Uruha’s gala, but he was stuck doing the housework for his two stepbrothers. Little did he know he was about to get some very special help . . .</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Tale of Kaiderello

**Author's Note:**

> Fairy tale/fantasy AU with smut and humor. Written for the Anonymity square of my Kink Bingo card – although the primary catalyst for this fic was going to see the New York Shakespeare Festival’s production of Into the Woods.

Once upon a time, there was a beautiful kingdom called Gazettia. It had abundant crops, thriving industry and a pretty cool national slogan: “Nameless Liberty.”

Like most other kingdoms of its type, it tended to suffer periodic attacks from monsters – trolls, giants, harpies and the like – but even those were held in check, because the country was under the protection of a Champion of Justice, Sailor Gazettia, who showed up whenever things got out of hand.

The nation was ruled by a royal family, who lived in a castle high up on a hill, where it could be seen by the entire kingdom. They had two sons – the elder of whom was renowned for his beauty, but who still had not, curiously, found someone to love; the younger of whom had been quietly sent to live in another kingdom when it had been discovered he’d been a bit of a horndog and fathered tons of what used to be called “Royal Bastards.”

The family decided they were going to throw a Grand Galloping Gala to help said elder son find his soul mate. All the children of the best families in the country were invited – because, God forbid their son end up with Just Anyone.

And it is here where our story begins . . .

* * *

In one of the better houses in town lived a beautiful boy known as Kaiderello. Now, unlike most of the people in the kingdom, Kaiderello was not happy. You see, he had two stepbrothers who expected him to do all the work.

The reason Kaiderello had these stepbrothers, and that they were alone in the world, is that his father (whose first wife had passed on when Kaiderello was just a baby), and his stepmother (who’d left her first husband for Kaiderello’s father, taking her kids with her, a few years later) just decided to take off out of the blue.

Their children woke up, and they couldn’t find them. They left before the sun rose up that day. They just took off and left it all behind them. But where were they going without even knowing the way?

And so, Kaiderello, Aoi and Reita were fending for themselves. Fortunately, their parents left them with a massive amount of money, because they were stinking, filthy, ridiculously rich – part of the .0001%. But rather than doing good works with the money – or, y’know, hiring some household help – Aoi and Reita spent money on their hobbies, which they worked on all day long.

Reita liked to restore old cars and motorcycles. He’d buy heaps of junk and have them running like racehorses. Unfortunately, he was only good at engine work, not body work, so what you ended up with was a bunch of things sitting around the yard and driveway that one could call eyesores – but that would be unfair to eyesores.

Aoi liked birds. Rather, he liked training birds to sing in a choir. And he just kept acquiring more and more of them, rare songbirds from far-flung parts of the world. Yes, it would definitely be accurate to say that Aoi was a flat-out Twitter addict.

And meanwhile, Kaiderello was left with the cooking, and the cleaning, and the heavy lifting. Said heavy lifting left him spectacularly ripped, by the way, but nobody ever saw his body – because he had no time for a social life. Or to go out shopping, other than to get the household groceries. Which is why, when the day of the Grand Galloping Gala approached, he was looking at not being able to go, because he had no suitable outfits.

Oh, he tried on his stepbrothers’ clothes, of course, but they didn’t quite fit him. Aoi was too tall and thin. Reita had muscles from his car work, but he still wasn’t quite as ripped as Kaiderello.

Kaiderello was grumbling about this as he mopped the front entranceway – Reita’s greasy bootprints again, dammit. A knock came on the door, and he pulled it open, puffing a lock of hair out of his eyes.

“Hi,” said Ruki, the Mail Delivery Guy, as he handed Kaiderello a heavy package. “More bird feed, it looks like. What the fuck does your stepbrother have back there, a whole aviary?”

“You don’t want to know,” Kaiderello sighed, taking the parcel. “Thanks.”

“Hey, you going to the gala tonight?” Ruki said. “I saw your family got one of the invitations.” It was his job to deliver the things, after all, and the bag of over-engraved, over-decorated, over-done envelopes addressed to every rich family in the kingdom had nearly broken his fucking back.

Kaiderello shook his head. “My stepbrothers are, but . . .” He shrugged. “Too much to do.”

“Oh, yeah?” Ruki said. “Why don’t you have those two jerks give you a break every once in awhile? I mean, what kind of selfish bastards are they?”

“The kind who think Twitters and engines are more important than food,” Kaiderello said. “But, hey, they’re still family.”

“Well, even family has their limits,” Ruki said. “Remember that.” He gave Kaiderello a wave. “See you later.”

Kaiderello sighed as he watched Ruki go. The Mail Delivery Guy had a point. But Aoi and Reita really were family. And he couldn’t just take off on them like their parents had. Somebody had to hold this place together – right?

* * *

Later that night, Kaiderello was putting the cleaning supplies away when he heard voices from upstairs. “Oi! Kaiderello, where’s my eyeliner?”

“Have you seen my white tie? What the fuck did I do with my white tie?”

Kaiderello sighed and walked up the stairs. “Reita, your ties are on the tie rack in the closet, where they belong. I put them there this morning. Aoi, check your bathroom. I picked up a bunch of makeup from all over the house yesterday.”

“Why do you put things back where they belong?” Aoi said. “I can’t find them then!”

“He always does that,” said Reita, tying a stylish band that matched his tie around his nose. “Just when you have things the way you want them. . . “

“I’m just trying to help you guys out,” Kaiderello said. He went down to the living room and peered out on the lawn to see a stretch limo parked and waiting among the junk cars, looking like a peacock among a flock of ragged sparrows.

If only they’d given me time to go shopping and get my hair done, he thought, I could be getting in that car with them.

“Limo’s here,” he called up the stairs.

“Coming,” Aoi said, running down the steps fluffing his hair out, looking gorgeous in a fancy white shirt with a black vest and matching silver jewelry. “How do I look?” He did a twirl in front of his brother.

Kaiderello sighed. “Fantastic,” he said.

“Of course I do,” Aoi said. “I’m a superstar.” He went to the stairs and called up, “Hey, Reita, move your ass!”

“I’m coming, dammit!” Reita came down the steps looking equally resplendent, the sought-for white tie over a sleeveless black leather shirt, with pants to match. “And don’t tell me to move my ass after you took an hour with your makeup.”

“Oh, like you didn’t take just as long to pick out the perfect belt?” Aoi flicked his hand at Kaiderello as the two headed out the door. “Later!” he said.

Kaiderello just stood in the doorway watching as they got into their limo and it drove off into the night, until the taillights receded into the distance like his own hopes of going to the gala.

“Family has limitations,” he murmured to himself. But still, they were family.

He didn’t see the familiar figure lurking in the shadows, watching the house . . . nor the little dog by the figure’s side, a long-haired Chihuahua with a crescent moon on its forehead.

“Remember what I told you,” the dog said. “You can help that boy.”

Ruki the Mail Delivery Guy looked down at his canine companion. “You sure it’s going to work, Koron?”

“I know it’s going to work!” the dog said. “I know sailor powers inside and out! Who was it that gave you that damn wand in the first place? Now, get to it, we don’t have time!”

“All right, all right,” Ruki said. He flicked his hand, and a wand appeared in it, a long, crystal stick topped with a stylized, very Justin Davis-looking silver cross. He held it over his head and shouted, “GAZETTIA POWER, MAKE UP!”

* * *

Kaiderello headed for the house toward Reita’s garage. There were tools to put away, as there were every night. After that, he was just going to bed so he didn’t have to hear his stepbrothers come in.

And suddenly, there was someone jumping in front of him. Kaiderello leaped and gave a yelp. So did the other person.

“What the fuck are you doing outside this time of night?” the newcomer said.

Kaiderello blinked at him. Who the hell was this? There was something familiar about him . . . but not familiar. He was dressed in a rather revealing outfit – a tight white sleeveless top with a sailor collar and a red tie, a pair of snug blue short-shorts, and blue garters leading down to red boots trimmed with gold. The man noticed Kaiderello checking him out, and he hugged his arms around himself, as if to cover up.

“Okay, okay, I know the costume’s revealing!” he said. “I don’t like it, either!”

“Sailor Gazettia!” Koron snapped. “Get on with it!”

“Wait a minute.” Kaiderello said. “You’re Sailor Gazettia? Why are you here? Is the kingdom under attack?”

“No,” Sailor Gazettia said. “I came to help you.”

“Help me?” Kaiderello said. “With what – cleaning up Reita’s garage?”

“No, with going to the gala!” the senshi said.

“But we’ll clean up the garage, too,” said Koron.

“Hey!” Sailor Gazettia snapped, head turning toward his canine mentor.

“We want this boy to go to the gala, don’t we? We help him with his chores.”

“All right, but I still say those lazy bastards should do it themselves.” He flicked his wrist, and what looked like an ordinary silver pen appeared. “This is my Disguise Pen. It can make me look like anything I want. But it seems it can work on other people, and things, as well – for a certain amount of time.” He held it up. “You want to go to the gala, right?”

Kaiderello nodded. “More than almost anything.”

“Then you’ll go,” Sailor Gazettia said. “I’m going to give you the most ass-kicking hair and outfit ever, and a sharp car to drive. But remember, the magic only lasts until midnight.”

“Why midnight?” Kaiderello said.

“I don’t know!” Sailor Gazettia snapped. “I didn’t design this thing! It was just given to me by that guy over there.” He pointed to Koron. “Look, just trust me, okay?”

Kaiderello sighed. “Okay,” he said. He was still having trouble processing this whole thing. Why was Sailor Gazettia here? Why did he single him out? And how did he know his stepbrothers were lazy bastards? Furthermore, why did he still seem strangely familiar?

“All right, then.” The senshi held up the pen. “DISGUISE POWER! Turn Kaiderello into the hottest thing on the planet!” A beam of silver light erupted from the pen and engulfed the boy. He felt warm all over, had trouble breathing for a second . . .

And then, it faded. He breathed a long sigh of relief.

“Go on,” said Sailor Gazettia. “Go into the house and look at yourself.”

Kaiderello dashed indoors and went straight to Aoi’s room, where he knew he’d find a three-way mirror. He flicked on the light – and gasped.

What was reflected back at him was a very beautiful and quite badass-looking guy. The hair was shaven at the top left, the rest of it pulled up toward the right side, tumbling down to his shoulder in dreadlocks. He wore a white shirt, a black vest, silver jewelry, impeccable makeup . . .

And badass pants. Wonderful, form-fitting black pants that showed off everything he had to offer.

“Wow,” he said, turning around and looking at himself over his shoulder. It was all too much. He looked fabulous. Fantastic. Incredible.

He raced down the stairs, into the front yard, and gave Sailor Gazettia a tackleglomp. The senshi stumbled about, yelping.

“What the fuck was that for?” he said.

“To thank you,” Kaiderello said. “I’ve never looked like that before!”

“Well, if you don’t let go of me, we can’t get you to the ball, and then that look will be wasted, won’t it?”

“Sorry!” Kaiderello took a step back, hiding his hands behind his back.

“Now, these cars,” Sailor Gazettia said. “They run, right? They just look like shit?”

“They run like race cars,” Kaiderello said.

“Perfect.” The senshi raised the pen again. “DISGUISE POWER! Turn this car into a Lamborghini!”

A flash of light, and the junky car in front of him was suddenly a sleek, black sports car, the kind of thing that would make movie stars green with envy. “Oh, wow!” Kaiderello said. “All I need is the keys . . .”

“Covered,” Koron said, coming out of the garage with the keys in his mouth. “Just remember – midnight. One minute later, and everything will be back to how it was.”

“I understand,” Kaiderello said. “Wait – I need an invitation, don’t I?”

“Covered,” Sailor Gazettia said, flicking his hand. An envelope appeared in it. “This one was undeliverable. The royal family apparently didn’t know the guy they’d sent it to had died.” He pulled the engraved invitation out and handed it to Kaiderello.

“Thank you!” he said. “But, wait . . . how did you get . . .”

“Never mind!” Sailor Gazettia pushed Kaiderello toward the car. “Just take the keys and go! Time is ticking!”

He got in the driver’s seat and turned the key. The engine leapt to life, purring like a kitten. Reita really was talented . . . with the inner part of cars.

“I’m going,” he called out the window. “Thank you again!” He stepped on the gas, and sped off.

The senshi and his canine mentor watched him go. “You’re serious about the garage?” he said.

“Yes,” Koron said. “Remember, the mission of Sailor Gazettia is to help people.”

“You didn’t tell me it involved picking up greasy wrenches and mopping up oily shit!” Sailor Gazettia said.

“I said whatever form it took,” Koron replied. “And right now, it takes this form.”

Sailor Gazettia sighed. Right now, he could use some instant-cleanup powers. Unfortunately, they weren’t included in the senshi lineup.

* * *

Prince Uruha wandered around the gala, bored.

The same faces. The same people. The same shit, just a different ball.

His parents wondered why he hadn’t found anyone yet? It was because all he encountered were the same people, over and over. The idle rich, the people who frittered their lives away on meaningless hobbies and talked about nothing but me, me, me.

Like those two over there. The Twitter addict and the gearhead. They were a prime example of what was wrong with the upper crust of this kingdom. They were gorgeous, and hot – and they bored the hell out of him.

He wandered around, smiling at people, exchanging pleasantries, thanking them for coming – and wishing he were anywhere but here.

At least the wine was good. His parents always broke out the best for these occasions. Prince Uruha was a lover of fine alcoholic beverages – and not just because these people drove him to drink.

He looked up at where his father sat on a throne on a level above the ballroom, looking down at the proceedings. Looking down at HIM. His glare said, “Uruha, get your butt in gear. Find someone.”

The prince knew why there was so much pressure on him. He was the heir to the throne, especially since his brother had proven himself a ne’er-do-well. (Uruha was already planning to adopt one of the children his brother sired as his heir once he was settled down. He’d move him and his mother into the royal court and let her co-raise the child – no, there was no question of a marriage of convenience. He didn’t believe in that, and besides, Uruha preferred men.)

But all he wanted was the right to choose his own mate, and not from this pack of boring fools. He wanted to meet someone different, someone fresh, someone interesting, someone . . .

Like the gorgeous man he’d never seen before who had just entered, accepting a glass of champagne from a passing waiter with a smile that would light up the room.

“Well, hello there, beautiful,” the prince murmured to himself, setting his empty wineglass down on another passing tray. Suddenly, there was something more interesting here than booze.

He sidled up to the newcomer and gave him a bow. “Hello there,” he said. “Allow me to personally welcome you to the Grand Galloping Gala.” (Where his father came up with a name like that, he’d never know).

The gorgeous man blushed a bright pink, and bowed in return. “Thank you, your highness,” he said. “I have to confess, I’ve never been to one of these before.”

“No?” Prince Uruha said. “Well, you’re not missing much. They’re usually not that interesting.”

“Really?” the newcomer said, looking around him. “I don’t know . . . I think this is all gorgeous. Really spectacular. Does it always look like this?”

Oh, my God. He was sweet, fresh, not jaded. He wasn’t instantly talking about himself. He actually seemed impressed with this royal claptrap.

He had, in Prince Uruha’s eyes, just become 20% cooler.

The prince smiled at the newcomer and extended his arm to him. “Will you be my partner for dinner tonight?” he said. “I can tell you more about it.”

The newcomer’s eyes became wide as saucers, and another smile broke out over his face. The whole room seemed to break into a blaze of light.

“I’d love to,” he said. “Thank you so much, your highness!”

“Please,” he said. “Call me Uruha.”

They looked into each other’s eyes, and saw a definite interest there, the merest starting flickers of something that could become a flame.

Oh, yes, the prince’s boring night had just become a very interesting evening indeed.

* * *

They’d shared dinner, and cocktails, and dances. The prince found out the newcomer had no parents, lived “in one of the better parts of the kingdom,” and genuinely liked cooking. He seemed to appreciate the wines as well, he could identify the flavors, and talked with excitement about the dishes he could make that would match them.

Uruha told him about his life at the palace, how he’d pretty much been forced to learn things like dancing, and archery, and the social graces, in addition to lessons on how to govern from his father and his tutors. He was looking forward to taking over the kingdom, he wanted to keep it as peaceful as it always had been.

It was just dealing with the rest of the upper crust he didn’t like.

Throughout the evening, he couldn’t take his eyes off his companion. His sunshine smiles, his big, manly hands, the way his brow furrowed when he was trying to figure out the ingredients of a dish . . .

He had no idea who he was, really. He could have been an angel dropped right out of heaven, for all the prince knew. And that, of course, made him all the more interesting and exciting.

So it stood to reason that they’d eventually end up in one of the castle’s many salons, on a big, velvet couch, snuggled together and nicely alone.

“What would you say,” the prince said to his companion, “if I tried to kiss you?”

The other man raised his head, giving him a lovely smile. “I’d say, ‘Please, do.’”

Uruha tipped the man’s chin up, looking into his eyes, brushing his thumb across his lower lip. And then, their mouths came together, their tongues meeting gently, softly. Uruha dipped into his companion’s mouth, and dipped again, tasting wine and gourmet food and freshness.

God, he could be anyone, he thought. He could be a servant who stole an invitation from his employers and snuck in here. He could be a royal handyman in disguise . . .

And the idea of that was turning him on like he’d never been in his life.

He deepened the kiss more, running his hands over the other man’s long dreadlocks, then reaching up to gently caress the shaven part of his head. He felt his companion shift, press their bodies together.

He wants this as much as I do, the prince thought.

“Can I . . .” he murmured between kisses.

“Yes,” the other man breathed. “Oh, yes.”

Their hands moved over each other’s bodies, unfastening clothes. Uruha’s embroidered jacket landed on the floor, followed by both vests, shirts, Uruha’s pants and underwear . . .

He leaned over, kissing his companion’s chest, moving his lips place to place, brushing them, trying to take in every bit of his textures. God, look at those muscles. No nobleman was built like this.

He ran his hands over the other man’s beautiful arms, feeling their shape, their strength, as he took a nipple into his mouth, tonguing it, then starting to suck.

His companion gasped. “Uruha . . .”

“So gorgeous,” Uruha murmured. “So strong, so built. I’ve never seen a man like you. God, I want you in me so bad . . .”

He could be anyone, Uruha thought, as he tongued the other nipple, reaching down to unzip his pants. A common laborer, the salt of this nation’s earth, perhaps . . . but more interesting and gorgeous and sexy than any blueblood could ever dream of being.

The pants were undone, and Kai stood up, sliding them down his legs, along with his underwear . . .

Uruha gasped. Oh, oh, that cock. It was huge. He’d never seen anything like it. And the prince dropped to his knees, humbling himself before the magnificence of that thing like his subjects humbled themselves before him.

“Yes,” he murmured, running his fingers over it, kissing it. “Oh, my God, yes. You’re perfect. So damn perfect . . .”

His tongue swept over the hardness, feeling the texture, the heat, the play of veins. He had to have it in him, now.

He bent over the couch. “Find some sort of oil,” he said. “I don’t care what kind. Get me ready. I have to have you.”

The beautiful, hot, sexy, huge-cocked man reached into his discarded pants pocket and brought out a bottle. “I’m prepared,” he said.

Uruha closed his eyes, and then wonderfully large, manly fingers were pushing into him, stretching him, getting him ready. He moved back against them, purring. I don’t know who you are, he thought. I don’t care. I just know that right now, in this moment, you’re the center of my universe.

A second finger pushed in, and then a third, scissoring, stretching. Uruha moaned in pleasure, leaning back against him, thinking more, more, I want more . . .

“I’m ready,” he panted. “Please, please, take me.”

He felt the beautiful stranger grip his hips, and a strong chest leaning against his back, and then he was pushing in, and dear God, he was bigger than Uruha expected him to be from just looking at it. He sucked in a long breath, feeling a shock of pain, telling himself it would go away, it would go away . . .

It did, and then there was the feel of the other man filling and filling him until the prince thought he would burst, so wonderful and intense and delicious. There were lips kissing his ear, and the heavy weight of his body pressing against him, and the feel of his sweet breath . . .

“Are you okay?” the other man said.

“Yes,” Uruha murmured. “Fuck me.”

The beautiful stranger started to thrust, and Uruha gripped the plush fabric of the couch, growling in pleasure, lost in primal need. So good, so very good, hard and hot and big, sliding through him, seeming to hit every bundle of nerves, every pleasure center . . .

He moved his hips back against him, matching this man’s every stroke, wanting to completely envelop him with every push inward, to hold onto him, to devour him.

To keep him here forever.

He heard his companion’s moans, a deep, erotic sound, heard the slapping of flesh on flesh as he sped up, almost pounding into Uruha now. He’d moan his name if he knew it, but he didn’t, which made it all the more delicious, and so he just let out wordless sounds and cries, urging him on, wanting him to make him feel good, to dissolve in pleasure . . .

That big hand was on his erection now, the fingers encircling, stroking, exploring, learning every bit of Uruha’s most sensitive anatomy, where his moan zones were. A brush under the head had him shuddering, hips thrusting backward, head tossed back as well, blond hair bannering out all around his face . . .

And then came a hard thrust against the most sensitive spot inside him, and Uruha nearly screamed, completely undone, his body throbbing and trembling as he came harder than he ever had in his life, white fluid pouring over that gorgeous, glorious hand. He felt another hard thrust, and then heard his companion cry out, gripping Uruha’s hips as he rode out his orgasm.

The men collapsed to the couch together, holding each other, kissing, both of them licking at the come on the fingers of the prince’s new lover.

Uruha snuggled against him. He was happy, and content, and oh, so sated. He had to find out who he was. He had to ask him to move into the palace, get to know him, and maybe, maybe, be his for life . . .

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the other man’s head turn toward the grandfather clock in the corner – and then he stiffened. “Oh, no!” he said, jumping to his feet.

Uruha sat up straight. “What is it?”

“I have to go.” The other man was running around in a panic, grabbing and pulling on clothes.

“Wait!” Uruha said. “Why?”

“I can’t tell you,” he said. “I’m sorry. Thank you for everything – it was the best night of my life.”

“No!” Uruha cried. “Don’t go! At least tell me your name, and where to find . . .”

But he was gone, racing out the door, and Uruha could hear his feet on the back staircase right outside. The one he knew led directly outdoors.

He slumped down on the couch, head in his hands. What the hell? What the bloody hell? He’d found the perfect man, the one he’d been looking for all his life. He made love to him, and now he was gone without even an explanation.

The prince reached down for his clothes, starting to get dressed. And then, he noticed the pants on the floor. In his haste to leave, his lover had grabbed the wrong ones.

Uruha sat on the couch, thrusting his hands into the pockets, looking for ID, some small clue as to who he was. There was nothing. He’d been carrying nothing but that bottle of lube.

He hugged the pants to his heart, lowering his head, feeling closer to tears than he’d been since he was a child.

But the gears in his head were turning. Those pants had been form-fitting. They’d obviously been tailored, made for him. He was going to send his assistants out tomorrow with the pants, and have every man in the wealthy districts try them on. Including the servants – because it was more likely he was a servant than a nobleman.

The one who fit those pants, he was going to bring back here, and move him into a nice suite, and get to know him better. Because his heart was already telling him that he might have met THE ONE tonight.

“I’ll find you,” he murmured into the pants. “I’ll definitely find you!”

* * *

Kaiderello had just pulled away from the castle when he saw the flash of light that made him pull over. The magic was wearing off. Everything was as it was before.

His hot hairstyle was its usual shaggy curls and waves. His sharp clothes were his work clothes. Except . . .the pants.

My God, he was wearing the prince’s pants! He’d grabbed the wrong ones in his flight from the castle! No wonder they hadn’t felt quite right.

He sighed. Well, the prince was going to know he was no pampered, sharp-dressed boy now. Those pants probably turned into ratty, oil-splattered jeans on his floor.

Little did Kaiderello know that an extra spark of magic had stuck to those pants, allowing them to retain their form long after everything else had gone back to how it was, and those pants were about to become the best-known in the kingdom.

He pulled the junky car up in front of the house, went up to his room, and pulled his clothes off. He crawled into bed, naked and exhausted.

But just before he went to sleep, he licked his fingers. A faint taste of the prince’s come was still there. He kissed the hand before sliding into unconsciousness.

* * *

Prince Uruha wasn’t happy. The reports coming back from his messengers in the field weren’t good.

“We went to every district,” said the trembling, chubby man kneeling in front of him. “And we tried them on everyone.”

“Even the servants?” the prince said.

“Yes, the servants!” said the messenger. “Every one of them! The pants didn’t fit!”

“Were there any houses at all you missed?” he said. “Any at all?”

“Just one,” the messenger said. “But it has to be abandoned. Nobody could be living there.”

“What do you mean?” the prince said.

“There’s a bunch of junky cars all over the lawn and driveway. No house that civilized people were living in would look like . . .”

“I’m going there myself,” Prince Uruha said, springing to his feet. “Prepare my limo, and bring the pants.”

“But . . .” the messenger said.

“But, nothing,” the prince replied. “I said every house, and I meant every house. Get a move on!”

* * *

Reita was bent over one of his cars when he saw the royal limo pull up. He couldn’t understand why the tripometer had moved from yesterday – when he hadn’t taken it out.

“Well, holy shit,” he said when he saw the car stop, and the prince himself get out, holding a pair of pants. Did he leave something at the palace last night? He’d gotten lucky with a hot 19-year-old page boy, but both of them had been so drunk that he barely remembered the experience. No, wait, those weren’t his pants, and the page boy wasn’t with them. Damn.

“Try these on,” Uruha said, thrusting the pants toward him.

Reita blinked. “Huh?”

“Just try them on!” Uruha said. “Now!”

Reita looked around. “We’re kinda in the street . . .”

“This is a royal order!” Uruha said. “Do not disobey your prince!”

Reita shrugged, unzipped, and kicked off his boots. “Sorry, but I’m not used to dropping trou in public.”

Aoi, in the back yard, heard the prince yelling even over the twittering of his birds. “What the fuck?” he said. He went around the front of the house – only to see his brother pulling down his pants in front of the prince. “HUH?”

The prince took one look at the front of Reita’s underwear and shook his head. “Never mind. Not him. Put your pants back on.”

“What do you mean?” Reita said.

“I mean, you’re the wrong size,” Uruha said.

“Hey!” said Reita. “I’m plenty big! Your page boy didn’t think I was the wrong size!”

Aoi was baffled. The prince was going door to door looking for lovers? Why didn’t he hit on people last night? Furthermore, where the hell was he most of the time? He’d vanished for almost all his own ball.

Well, if looking for sex door-to-door was that kind of thing he wanted . . .

Aoi walked up to the prince, dropped his pants and underwear without shame, and proclaimed, “Here! Behold the superstar!”

Uruha made a face, looked down, looked up at Aoi, looked down again.

“No,” he said. “Definitely not you.”

“What???” Aoi said.

“Are there any other men living in your house?” Uruha said. “A servant, perhaps?”

Reita glanced over his shoulder. “Well, yeah, there’s Kaiderello, but I don’t think he’s what you’re looking for.”

“I need to see him,” Uruha said.

“You need another look at me!” Aoi said, starting to pull his pants down again – only to have his right hand caught by Reita, his left by Uruha.

“Please don’t,” they said in unison.

Meanwhile, Kaiderello was upstairs, straightening Aoi’s room, when he heard the commotion on the lawn. He peeked out the window – and couldn’t believe what he saw.

“Oh, my God,” he murmured. “Oh, my GOD!”

He’d come looking for him. He’d really come looking for him! He didn’t think of Kaiderello as a one-night stand, someone to love and leave.

He rushed back to his own room. He had to get the pants, and bring them back to him . . .

Outside, Uruha heaved a deep sigh. Well, his quest was over. Maybe his mystery visitor was someone from outside the kingdom, maybe from the neighboring country of Alicenineia. He’d have to get in touch with Prince Shou, and ask him if he knew of any . . .

And then, he heard a voice yelling, “Your highness! Your highness, please wait!”

There was a young man running from the house. His face was smudged with dirt, his T-shirt and jeans with oil. His hair was shaggy and hanging around his face, not impeccably sculpted.

But there was no mistaking that sunshine smile. Or, for that matter, the pants he was carrying in his hands.

He rushed up to Uruha, bowing deeply and holding the garments out. “Please accept these,” he said. “I . . . I kind of took them by accident.”

Uruha felt a rush of heat through his whole body. There was no need for this man to try on the pants. He’d found him.

He pulled the beauty into his arms, kissing him, and felt him kiss back, just as sweetly as last night. They parted, and he gently brushed at the smudge of dirt on his cheek, trying to remove it.

He’d never be dirty again. (Except, of course, in the nicest possible way.)

“What’s your name?” he said, softly. “You never told me last night.”

“Kaiderello,” his companion replied.

“Kaiderello?” Uruha frowned. “It doesn’t quite suit you. Is it okay if I just call you Kai?”

He was rewarded with one of those sunshine smiles, the kind that lit up his whole world from the inside. “I’d like that, your highness.”

“Uruha, remember? We’re picking up from where we left off. You’re going to move into the castle, and we’re going to get to know each other better. And if things work out . . .”

He gave him another kiss. Kai knew what he meant. A royal wedding in his future. (Gazettia did have same-gender marriage, after all). “Oh, Uruha . . .”

“Come with me, then?”

“Yes,” Kai said, grasping his hand. “Yes, right away!”

“Hey, wait a second!” Aoi said. “You’re supposed to stay with us! Who’s gonna look after . . .”

He was stopped by something jabbing in his back – something that felt suspiciously like a crystal wand topped with a very Justin Davis-looking stylized cross.

“How about you lazy bastards look after yourselves for once?” said a voice behind him.

Aoi whirled around. His eyes took in something, or rather someone, but his brain didn’t quite process it. He looked over at Reita, who looked at him, then they both looked at the newcomer, then at each other again.

“Sailor Gazettia?” they said, in perfect union.

“You’d better believe it,” he said, quietly thanking his lucky stars he’d happened to be on his mail run on this street when Prince Uruha pulled up. He transformed into his senshi form just in case he was needed. Which, it turns out, he was.

“Why are you here?” Reita said.

“Because I reward the deserving – like that boy over there, who worked his ass off for you two – and punish the wicked. And it looks like I’ve got myself two Wicked Stepbrothers.”

“We’re not wicked!” Aoi said.

“Yeah,” Reita said. “Okay, we might have had him do a bit of the housework, but . . .”

“A bit?” said Sailor Gazettia. “A BIT? Try he was too busy cleaning up after you two to get himself something nice to wear to the gala. Good thing I stepped in.” He pointed his wand at them. “You two are lucky I don’t get birds to peck your eyes out!”

Koron sidled up beside his charge. “You don’t have power over . . .”

“Ssssh!” Sailor Gazettia hissed at his mentor. Turning to the other two, he said, “I’m giving you two one chance to redeem yourselves, you understand? One chance. And if you fail . . .”

Aoi swallowed. Would his birds really peck his eyes out? Could Sailor Gazettia get them to do something like that? Well, if he could kill giants with a single zap of magic . . .

“What are we supposed to do?” he said. “Be his servants for life?”

“Not quite,” Sailor Gazettia said. “But it is service. Service to your country. We’ve got a Happily Ever After on our hands here, and Happily Ever Afters are always followed by a sharp increase in giant activity. I’m going to need backup, big-time. Now, Koron, do you have those other two wands?”

* * *

Several months later, Kai-who-was-no-longer-Kaiderello woke up in a nice, big royal bed, yawning happily. He snuggled against his one true love, who was still asleep beside him.

He still couldn’t believe, sometimes, that there were no floors to mop, no makeup to fetch from all over the house, no greasy wrenches to wipe off and put back in their rack. He still cooked, but that was because he enjoyed it, and because Uruha liked his cooking as well.

He’d kept busy learning about what it took to be a royal consort (apparently, he’d be going on a lot of diplomatic missions to other countries when necessary). But he also got to spend a lot of time with Uruha, just doing things together, learning more about each other, becoming more and more of a couple every day.

Oh, and making love. This bed was a haven for the two of them, where they explored each other’s wants and needs, reaching peaks of ecstatic pleasure neither had ever dreamed possible before.

Kai pressed a gentle kiss to the prince’s temple, and he stirred, yawning, and pulling Kai closer. “Good morning, love,” he murmured.

“Good morning,” Kai said. “Today’s the day, isn’t it?”

Uruha yawned and nodded. “This afternoon. We’re going to announce our engagement from the main balcony at precisely 2 p.m. My father is just about dancing jigs. He really likes you.”

“I’m glad,” Kai said, running his fingers over Uruha’s hair. “We need to plan our wedding now, you know.”

Uruha laughed. “I have advisors for that. We have better things to do.”

“Like?” Kai said, with a teasing smile.

“Like . . . this.” And Uruha brought his lips to his lover’s . . . just as a massive crash sounded from outside. Both heads snapped up.

“What was that?” Kai said.

Uruha shrugged. “Just another giant invasion. The senshi will take care of it. Come here . . .”

The two of them kissed, hotly, pulling each other closer, ready to begin their life together.

Their happily ever after.

* * *

In a field below the castle, the kingdom’s three senshi prepared to face down their foe.

“You’re going to be sorry you came here,” Sailor Gazettia said, pointing his wand at the giant. “I am the champion of justice, Sailor Gazettia, motherfucker!”

“And I am the great superstar, Sailor Aoi-sama!” yelled the senshi to his left – the one in orange.

“Why the hell are we bothering with introductions?” said the senshi to Sailor Gazettia’s right, the one in green – with the noseband to match. “Let’s just kick this bastard’s ass!”

Several flashes of magic later, the giant erupted in a cloud of rapidly dissipating dust, and the senshi leapt around, whooping and hollering and high-fiving each other. Kai’s stepbrothers had found something they liked a hell of a lot more than bird-training and car-restoring, and it didn’t matter to them whether they had to wash a dish or sweep a floor from time to time – as long as they got to kick monster ass.

They too, it seemed, had found their happily ever after. 


End file.
